Curing A Drunk: Sequel To Cracking The Uncrackable
by PaperclipKiller
Summary: Robert McGough is a oddly named but good crime scene photographer. Called in because she was working late, Robert finds herself caught up in a mystery disappearance that leaves her head spinning and gets her sucked into a world where the dead walk. Now, she's stuck with a rough group that happen to be her only hope of surviving. Nikolai/OC. M for safety.
1. Prologue

**To lazy to write generic disclaimer. You know I don't own this.**

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Translations:

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**You know what time it is. **

**Here it is, something I've cooked up for a few months now and having way too many problems with but, nonetheless, I have started. I hope you guys like this one, considering I will be experimenting with changing points-of-view and this is an entirely new character thrown in which, with the changing points-of-view, will be increasingly difficult. **

**But, I'm not so easily swayed. Never. Not when a good story is at hand. (I really need to stop reading Sherlock fanfiction...)**

**Anyway, enjoy.**

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Robert McGough stood in front of the crime scene before her and chewed on the end of her pencil with a quizzical and almost tired expression on her face. Her green eyes bounce around the huge warehouse, looking over the multiple little consoles and generators and wires laid over the room taking in every little detail her brain could muster at an hour like this. She had always been quite good at working late, normally when others were fast asleep in their beds but this was ridiculous.

It was close to five in the morning and she was standing here in a pair of barely presentable loose jeans with a tank top and hooded jacket, something she'd rather not be seen in, and there is literally nothing. The scene they been called in for was hardly a crime and for some reason the men in black needed to know where this stupid girl had disappeared to _now_ because she held particularly shady evidence or something. Robert hadn't been paying attention.

"Robby," a voice chirps behind her. She turns, still chewing on the pencil. Her friend, Roger, is standing, kit in hand, looking just as tired as she feels and holds a rather sullen expression. "There's not a damn thing here. I'm going home. We'll come back tomorrow."

She shook her head, too tired to wrestle with him. "You go on ahead, catch some Z's, I'll stick around for a while longer."

Roger groaned, obviously not the answer he wanted but she didn't care and just turned from him, rolling her eyes. He soon left, kit and all, and she was left alone seeing as they were the only two that answered this late at night. All the other sensible people with lives turned their phones off at night apparently.

"So..." she said to herself, voice warped because of the eraser stuck between her teeth, "where did you go?"

No signs of struggle, no visible signs of forced entry, no blood, no body, nothing. Now, she was no detective, but this seemed as if the girl simply got up and walked through the wall. Disappeared, vanished. Her only finger prints were the ones found on nearby consoles and the few things she left behind.

Robert fiddled with the camera hanging around her neck and huffed. She removed the pencil from her mouth and stuck it behind her ear. She had tried to wrap her mind around everything plausible but nothing seemed to work. She'd just tell the men in black that this girl had up and left. She turned to leave, something she was actually happy to do for once considering the hour this was taking place, and was about to grab for her camera bag which lay a table or two away when something behind her turned on.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her whole body was bombarded with an immense feeling of sickness, like her stomach was twisted into an uncomfortable knot by an invisible force. She honestly felt like she was going to throw up.

She turned and gasped, her eyes wide. The giant machine at the other end of the room, the one that was supposedly broken and the one that the men in black told her not to touch, had turned on and was roaring with energy. Giant bolts of electricity danced inside of it, cracking and spitting, bright blue, screaming to burst free but as soon as it started it was over. The electricity stopped, the monster of a machine hissed back to into it's slumber, and Robert was left standing awkwardly, eyes wide, almost expecting something horrible to happen.

Robert knew that she shouldn't have stepped toward the thing, that she should have ran to the man that hired her and told him what happened, but she didn't no, that wasn't like her. She was curious, too curious for her own good sometimes, and she walked toward the machine with steady but cautious footsteps.

She finally comes face to face with the monster and sees that it had spit up something. Sitting in the middle of it, resting as if it had always belonged there, was a laptop. It was a durable one, she could tell, something that could be tossed around without breaking and from the looks of it, it had taken one hell of a beating. On the top sat a square of paper, folded neatly and slightly burnt from the machine itself...but where had it come from?

She approached, cautiously stepping into the machine and grabbing the object. Minding her camera she pulled the laptop to her. Robert was amazed that the laptop wasn't hot, but cold. Freezing actually. She pulled the note off, touching the paper gingerly afraid that it'd crumble, and opened it to scratchy yet legible scrawl.

_To whomever finds this,_

_My name is Tabitha and about a month and a half ago I was asked to sit down in front of a console and crack a code that would help unravel the mystery behind a machine that hadn't turned on since 1942. This machine was supposed to be the turning point in World War II, something that was supposed to change the face of the planet and the way people saw war at the time. It was a machine of fear, of hate, and a lot of people died because of it. The story that surrounds it is long and complicated, filled with jealousy and anger and a lot of dead ends. You see, what I'm telling you is that the codes and messages I was sent to decipher don't tell you how to work the machine they tell you about the people who built it. _

_Now, this computer holds all of those messages, all the codes, everything. I didn't try to erase or hide any of the gory details either but what I'm going to hide is what's beyond that machine. You don't want to turn it on, ever, and even though your probably going to do it anyway, I'll let you know that the program is on this computer and you'll find nothing. Unless you know the controls and had someone to operate it you'll most likely die or end up someplace you don't want to be. You can start it if you'd like, you can even use it if you want, but where you'll end up is a place you never want to go._

_ I bet you have a lot of questions. Your probably wondering why I'm not there right now and telling you this personally, especially if this place it so horrible but I decided to stay. Why? Because I got lucky. I fit it here more then I have in my old life; I found friends that care, a family, and I even fell in love. He's a little crazier then I'd like but he suits me. I suppose that some people have to travel through hell and back, earn a few scars and lose a few digits before they realize they have something good going for them._

_But, I'm begging you to not come looking for me. I'm happy, I'll probably die a horrible death, but I'll be happy. You have your codes and your machine and me, well, I warned you and hope that I don't have to see your dead body because you didn't listen._

_ Wish me luck, whoever you are, and have a nice, wonderful day._

_Yours truly, Tabitha._

Robert looked over the note three or four more times, reading it a few more, before finally looking away and toward the laptop that sat before her. Her eyes ran over the surface once more before she grabbed it and moved it behind her.

She then walked into the machine, checking the inside once before looking back outside.

"That's...impossible..." She whispered aloud, touching her chin. She was too lost in her thoughts to actually keep track of what her body was doing. "I have to call Roger..."

And as soon as those words left her mouth the machine kicked on again, roaring to life. It startled her, causing her to flinch just long enough for the machine to start. Before she could move the blue electricity caught her body and stilled her, making her stay. In a flash of startling blue light and loud noise the room was empty, laptop abandoned and machine steaming.

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**You all know what this is and I hope you enjoy it...**

**In my opinion it starts a little rough but hey, all stories do...**

**Review if you like.**


	2. Chapter 1

**To lazy to write generic disclaimer. You know I don't own this.**

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Translations:

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**For the good reviews, thanks everyone. For all the mary sue haters, oh my god, get over yourself. Its the first fucking chapter. Give me a break and some time to fucking breathe, I'll get to the good parts and the character will develop. Fuck.**

**Also, this chapter holds a very special character for those of you who have read the first story. Hope you enjoy her return.**

**Anyway, here's another chapter. Hope you enjoy it.**

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_Robert's POV_

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What I hated about waking up the most was that I had to wake up. It was honestly bullshit, having to get up and deal with the same old stuff that I dealt with the day before. Having to deal with my dysfunctional friends, having to deal with my shithead of a boss, and most of all, having to deal with my partner, Roger, who quite honestly needed to stop being a pushy asshole and get whatever was stuck up his ass out of there before it killed him.

I rolled over, expecting to feel my bed, only to bang my head against something with loud _thang! _I yelped in pain, instantly sitting up and pulling away, covering my injured noggin with my hand. After a moment, when the pain wasn't as fresh, I dared to open my one eye to catch a glance at whatever I managed to hit my head on.

I was amazed to see that I banged my head on a bar. Not just any bar, a safety bar.

My brain had to catch up for a second. Where was I? I mused angrily. Here I was, thinking I was in bed, all comfy and safe, and I wasn't. Awesome. God obviously decided to mess with my cornflakes today.

I sat up, mindful of my head this time, and found myself rather taken aback by where I was. I was in the middle of a rather large room, atop a round disk on gunmetal grey. Below me something flashes and then blinks off and I notice that below me, under some sort of enforced glass, is a whirling mass of _something _that seems to be moving and glowing all at once. Somewhere deep inside me my stomach churns and I find myself standing shakily, hurrying off the disk and away from it.

I look over the room, not seeing much considering that only the emergency lights were on, and my eyes land back onto where I previously was. The laptop is still there, still beat up and hissing once more. I almost go to retrieve and think better of it. That stupid thing was the reason I was stuck here-where ever the fuck here _was-_and I was not about to be fooled twice. For all I care the thing can stay there!

Just then, as if the weir circular thing had heard my thoughts and decided to speak back, hisses and zaps, making me jump. The instant that happens I find myself rather upset, completely embarrassed that I was frightened by an inanimate object with obvious problems, and decide to find help. After all, I was lost and there had to be someone around...

I find the door in the dimly lit room and, after fiddling with the door for a bit, it finally decides to click open. It swings outwards as I walk through, naturally letting go of the doorknob only to have it fall off the door completely. It clangs to the floor, making me jump once more. Honestly, this place wanted to give me a heart attack. I cuss under my breath and continue. I walk down the hall, slow and cautious. Not only were there no people what-so-ever but it looked like a fucking tornado decided it was a good idea to waltz through this place.

There were papers everywhere! On the floor, somehow stuck to the walls, in piles and spread all over. Hell, one I saw was stuck in a vent on the ceiling. And papers weren't the only thing. Desks had been shoved in front of doors, chairs were tipped and some were even broken, and most of the windows, if not all, were shattered or busted completely open. I stopped to look at one, my watchful eyes scanning over the crumbled glass. There was wire embedded into the glass. Whatever broke these windows had been strong. That, or really determined and pissy. Like Roger.

I shivered at the thought of having to deal with him tomorrow. God, I'd never hear the end of it. He'd complain about his boyfriend, complaining about his job, their boss, their co-workers, and then, just for shits, he'd complain more just to make sure his head didn't explode from all the hot air he seemed to produce.

I turned a corner, my foot stepping on something wet. I pause, disgusted, and look down only to have my throat tighten in horror.

It was blood and not just a tiny amount either. There was a puddle, a huge puddle. Actually, it was a lake and something had splashed in that lake and had a field day. It was sprayed over the walls, over the windows, on the ceiling and, for that Martha Stewart extra touch that everyone needs (yes, even murderers), there were even drag marks of blood heading out the other end of the hall.

How lovely.

Now, it not that I'm not used to blood, no. I'd seen plenty and it's not really horrifying or anything it's just...not something I particularly enjoy seeing. Blood meant bad things had happened. People had been killed. People were hurt. People were dying. That or I was being a dumbass and managed to cut myself, _again. _

But, to me, blood isn't good nor bad. It's just annoying. If anything, it's messy.

I curl my lip and attempt to breathe through my mouth to lessen the tangy scent of iron. It doesn't work but I can dream. I look over my shoulder seeing why I turned in the first place. The other hall was blocked off by the furniture version of Tetris. Turning back to the blood covered hall before me I decided that the best course of action is to keep going, get through the hall as quick as possible, and then keep going. No time for detours.

I wade through the red puddles of sticky, old blood. I take my time, being careful not to fall, and eventually find myself in the middle of sea of red that makes up the hallway. I have a desk on one side of my and a couple of discarded chairs in front of me, blocking my path and making my job a little more difficult. One misplaced step and _swoosh! _Down I go. I'd really love to see how I would explain that to whoever I found to get me out of this place.

"Sorry I look like I just committed a murder but I'm lost, could you help me?" I say out loud, not really for any reason. I snort to myself, a smile tugging at my lips.

I reach down for one of the chairs to move it so I can safely make it to the other side of the hall when suddenly a man stumbles out into the intersect of the hallways before me. He doesn't notice me, which is odd. How the hell doesn't he notice the mess I'm standing in? He then begins to walk down the hall straight ahead of me. He limps, like his leg doesn't work correctly. In fact, it looks broken.

I feel a chill go down my spine and I resist the urge to call out to this man. I wanted to get out of here but I wasn't asking some whacked out loon with a broken leg. I grab one the chairs and slowly move it, propping it against the desk. I move past it, moving more silent than I needed to, and begin to once again slowly make it to the end of the hall. The whole time my eyes don't leave the man hobbling away from me.

Soon enough I'm on solid ground instead of slick blood. I'm just about to tip toe into the hallway that the man originally came from when all of a sudden a loud _THWACK _sounds from behind me. I freeze, looking back to find the chair I had set against the desk had fallen. I instantly turn back to the man. To my horror he's turned, looking straight at me and instantaneously I know why I didn't want to call on him.

His eyes weren't eyes or, at least, none that I had ever seen. They were bright yellow and somehow, even though I saw no pupils, I felt that they were focused right at me. I suddenly felt cold.

He began to move, one foot in front of the other, slower then faster, until he was at a wobbly run. What came from his throat could only be described as a mixture of a scream and nails on a chalkboard somehow mixed together and in that exact moment, as he was barreling toward me, I decided there was one thing to do.

Get the fuck away from where ever this was.

I panted, ducking into yet another hallway, and found myself nearly falling. I was out of breath, too hot, and I just couldn't run anymore.

But I had to. If I didn't, I would die. How did I know that? Well, there's nothing in this world that I have ever encountered that runs with a broken leg, has light bulbs for eyeballs, and can't run non-stop for at least twenty minutes without breaking a sweat or slowing.

I heard the thing scream again. It was close. Very close. I felt my heart freeze up in my chest and had to gulp down some air just to keep myself from keeling over.

I force myself to move. I duck into a room only this time there's not only blood but a bunch of busted up cages and pig? I don't even pay attention to the details of the rest of the room. I duck in around the room separators and press myself against a wall with boards nailed to it. I put a hand across my mouth to hide the sound of my ragged breaths.

I hear footsteps, slow but clumsy, and I know it's here. It's going to come find me and kill me. I'm not going to get out of this one. Somehow, these were going to be my last moments. I felt myself get dizzy and winded. It took all of my strength not to start hyperventilating. Somehow, I kept my cool as the thing rounded the corner.

It growled at the sight of me and I found myself even more disgusted when it was closer. It smelled gross and sickly sweet of rot, how it was still moving left my mind whirling in circles. It's eyes were barely hanging onto their sockets, looking as if they were about to fall out. But in that moment I saw that it wore a white shirt, black dress pants with a belt, and it had a tie. It had been human, alive, probably working his job.

God knew what happened to him though.

In that moment it raised it's arms, taking it's sweet old time, prolonging my end. It growled once more, wavering, moving back just to get momentum to strike. Then it screamed, lunging, and I closed my eyes. I was going to die.

I suppose I had a good life. Lots of friends, been lots of places. A kick ass mom coupled with some cute siblings and a pretty cool grandmother. I even made it through college with a degree and got myself a pretty good job. I felt pretty good. I mean, would it be so bad? Dying like this? Alone, having no idea where I am, attacked by some _thing _with no degree of personal hygiene?

Yes. It was bad. Who the hell was I kidding? That was a shitty way to die-wait, I wasn't dead.

I opened my eyes just to see the thing fall to the floor in a crumpled heap with the hilt of a knife sticking out of the back of it's skull. It didn't move, didn't growl. It was dead, permanently this time. I found myself breathing again. My heart was still beating fast like it was running it's own personal marathon but hey, I was alive. That good news right?

Wrong. Just then another figure stepped around, decked out in a long black trench coat, heavy boots, and a rather large gun-a shotgun?-held in one white knuckled fist. The figure was short, tiny and compact, and was looking down at the thing that it had somehow managed to kill.

I made a choked noise in my throat and much to my disappointment that attracted the figure's attention. The figure's head suddenly snaps to me, revealing a dirt covered female face with a fresh wound across her right eyebrow. It was deep and going to scar. That much I could tell.

Her eyes scanned over me, her mismatched eyes looking rather hateful and deep and disappointed. Something in her gaze said she had seen too much and didn't want to talk about it but there was also something there that said she was very pissed about my arrival.

"How did you get here?" She asks, her voice low. It was like a harsh whisper; just loud enough to heard and just loud enough to get her annoyance across.

"What?" I let slip out, my brain not functioning properly. After all, I almost died.

"Never mind," she says, moving closer to me and sinking down next to me. She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a gun. It's small but for some reason very large at the same time. She holds it out to me in her left hand. "Take it. I need to get you back to the others in one piece. I'll need your help."

I nod, unable to think of anything at the moment, and take the gun in one hand. I gasp at the sight of her hand once the gun is removed. Her fingers...some were missing. I don't stare because I don't have time. Instantly her hand is gone and there's a backpack, tattered and barely holding itself together, and she's digging through it. She finds what she'd looking for and without a second to loss, she closes the bag, slings it onto her back and stands.

I stand with her, amazed at how steady I find my feet to be. She looks at me, eyes focused on mine, with a frown on her face. She cocks her shotgun.

"Follow me."

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**Sorry for the wait. Review if you like. Reviews are appreciated. **


	3. Chapter 2

**To lazy to write generic disclaimer. You know I don't own this.**

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Translations:

1. Love, I'm back. I got what you needed!

2. Wonderful! I must see it, quickly.

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**Hello! Love to see the reviews people. I'm glad you guys are happy about Tabby's return and glad about the sequel. **

**As to answer some of your questions: **

**1. I don't know whether or not I'd make another story after this. I have work and I've been really busy, my hours are nuts, and honestly, I'd have no idea how the hell to make a Takeo love story. Tank, yes. Takeo, uhhhh...I'm clueless. Open to ideas though.**

**2. Yes, they are currently at Five. They won't be for long though. Yes, there is a pig in Five, one the lower levels, in the testing facilities. It's suspended and squealing until you shoot it. (Don't though, it makes the zombies harder to kill.) **

**3. The Pentagon Thief will show up...but I do try and keep this realistic. We may not see him running around in a giant red fog. I don't know how I'll include him but we'll see. Once again, open to ideas. **

**Anyway, here's the story. Have fun. Enjoy. **

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_Tabitha's POV_

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I kept my footsteps quiet, stepping over debris and paper and broken glass without so much as a look down. I had grown used to this life, chose it actually, over the mundane life that I had had before. Sometimes I wondered if I had actually been built for this. I had become some good at it that silent steps were the only type of steps I had and loading a gun was second nature.

Something crunches behind me and I whip around to see the woman I had saved no more than thirty minutes ago. My anger returns full blast, just as it had when I had first seen her. It takes all of my control not to growl at her, sneer, and berate her. She was too loud. They'd hear.

"Will you be quiet?" I hiss, eyes narrowed.

"I'm trying, okay?" She answers, her voice too loud.

I grit my teeth. Fine, I think to myself, fine. Everything would be just fine. We were almost to the elevator and back with the guys soon enough and then they could take care of her. Maybe they'd take care of her like they'd take care of me? Maybe she'd join? Who knew? Right now, I didn't care. I wanted to get back soon before Tank threw a fit because I was running late.

I turn the corner, the girl behind me, and I tip toe my way to the elevator. I hope she's close behind because they'll hear the bell go off and come running. They'll run and catch her and I will _not _save her this time. No. Everybody gets one; one save, one time for me to get them on their feet, and that was all. After that, it was their responsibility.

I wait for her in the elevator and she walks in not a second behind me. Good, she was keeping up. I hit the button and the doors slide shut and the bell goes off. That brings them out of the wood works. One by one they run from they're hiding spots. They'll come looking for food, growling and angry when they don't find it, and then slink back into their holes.

I look over to the woman, my lips pressed firmly together. "How did you get here?" I ask, running my eyes over her. She didn't look like military. She had a camera for Christ's sake.

"It's nice to meet you too," she says, her voice swimming with sarcasm.

I grit my teeth again. "Are you with the military? I told you to not come looking for me. I sent a damn message, didn't you fucking get it?" I snap, eyebrows knitted together. "Or was I not clear enough when I said it was dangerous and you might die?"

She looks over to me with a confused look on her face. "You're that girl? The one that disappeared?"

"What?"

She turns toward me fully, her arms immediately crossing her chest and I can see why. Unlike me she has a rather full chest and doesn't seem too proud about it. "You're Tabitha? The little computer hacker that went missing."

"Hacker?" I yell, already enraged. "They _hired_ me."

The woman puts up her hands in mock surrender and steps back theatrically. "I'm just repeating what I was told. They called me and my team in to look for clues on your disappearance. They thought you might have booked it with secrets in tow."

I feel my fists tighten into fists. First her showing up here and now that? God, I had never been so insulted. I push that aside. I had done my job and they got what they wanted.

"That still doesn't explain how you got here," I say, still pushing for an answer.

She sighs, her one hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. She lets out a heavy sigh, one filled with exhaustion and aggravation. I'd heard it many times before from Richtofen.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now," she says and I can respect that. I was shocked on my first day as well. "Where are we?"

"Pentagon, November 21st 1963," I say easily. When we had first landed here I was surprised we had come this far in the future. It's like we were slowly moving forward.

"What?"

I didn't have time to answer her question. The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. We were on the second floor in the War Room, the only place deemed safe by Richtofen to stay because the first floor and third floor were all infested. They didn't come here though. We didn't ask why though. We needed a good place to stay to wind down.

"Tabitha!"

The voice boomed across the room, loud and angry, and I could see the woman next to me jump. The look on her face was nothing short of shock, whether it was because it was the sudden change in noise volume or because of the idea that we weren't alone, I didn't know. I'd have to remind myself to ask later.

Tank rounded the corner, eyes closed, and screaming. "I told you twenty minutes. We had it mapped, planned! You said it wouldn't take long!" He looks up now, blue eyes focused on me, face red, and continues with, "I told you to not stay down there too long-what the fuck?"

His eyes are on her now, wide and confused and somewhat shocked. The woman has her eyes narrowed at him and waves, other arm still crossing her chest. I inwardly snort to myself. "Who the fuck? What the fuck Tabby?"

He look back to me, his eyes suddenly confused and her jaw slack. I just smirk. "Oh, don't worry your little blonde head Tank," I say, walking out of the elevator and passed him (but not without giving him a loving punch to the arm), the girl I'd saved hot on my trail. "I got it under control."

"Where the fuck did she come from?" Tank yells after me, following us. He was so funny sometimes. It was beautiful.

I reach the top of the stairs instinctively stepping over Takeo's feet. He was sprawled against the wall in a deep sleep and I dare not disturb him. Takeo got very pissy when he was tired and even more so when he was roused from a deep sleep. How he slept through Tank's bitching and barking, I had no idea.

(1) "Liebe, bin ich wieder. Ich bekam, was man benötigt!" I say, instantly switching languages. I had spent most of my time bending over the German-English Dictionary I had had before Richtofen had thought it a good idea to actually teach me. It had taken months but I had gotten some of it down.

"Wunderbar! Ich muss es sehen, schnell," Richtofen yells from the desk he is currently hunched over. I walk up to him and only once I set my backpack and shotgun on the table does he look up. The expression he holds is one of deep seated love and relief. "You know vhat I say about guns on zhe table."

I smile, setting the shotgun on it's stock and leaning it against the wall. "I missed you too."

Richtofen chuckles, grabbing me with one arm. He kisses my forehead and chuckles. "You know I missed you. I'm glad you're safe."

I kiss him back before pulling away just in time to see Nikolai standing not so far away. He's on the other side of the table, actually standing for once, and is looking rather dumb-struck.

"What's wrong with you stumpy?" I ask, looking him over. He was drunk, per usual, but something had obviously caught his attention. He looks to me, acknowledging my question, and then points to whatever he was looking at with a wave of his bottle holding hand.

"Is she real?" Nikolai asks, still looking at whatever he was looking at. Then it hits me. I turn and there she is. I forgot she was here. By now Richtofen has looked up and seen her too. Tank is there too, looking at me for answers. My throat goes tight and my heart drops from it's pedestal because I know what's going to happen next.

"Tabitha, vho is zhis?" Richtofen asks, his voice dropping to a dangerous low octave.

Shit.

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_Robert's POV_

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Alright, I may be new to this but I know pissed and suspicious when I see it. I had seen it plenty of times throughout my six years on the force and it wasn't about to disappear now because I was faced with a group of elder men and a girl with a few missing digits.

"Uhh," Tabitha starts, looking rather stumped as to what to say.

"I'm Robert McGough, Crime Photographer," I introduce myself, trying to sound professional.

The male that had pointed me out, a foreign man who reeked of booze, smiles stupidly. "So, I'm not only one who sees her?"

"Obviously, dumbass," Tabitha says over her shoulder. His smile instantly disappears and he gives her a look that dares her to say something else. She almost does too, I imagine, but I stop her by letting out a cough. She looks back to me, obviously not pleased.

"And vhere did you come from?" The other male asks, his eyes practically glowing as they ran over me. I felt like I was being picked apart under the gaze but I simply brushed it off. I've dealt with people like him most of my life and a few of my best friends had similar psychotic traits this man was exhibiting so, to be truthful, this man was my kind of normal. Especially with that oh-so-lovely Swastika he had wrapped around his arm. I knew a few people who'd pay good money to wear something like that.

"Same place she did," I say, pointing to Tabitha. That draws the green eyed mans attention to her and causes her to glare at me. The glare falls short though, as if she's not really trying. "But she's made it perfectly clear she's not too happy about it."

"With good reason," Tabitha adds, giving the green eyed Nazi a side glance. He nods, his lips becoming a tight line on his thin face. Something obvious was left unsaid and I wasn't about to try to pry that up.

"Why are you named Robert?" The other male asks. I look to him. He's tall with straight cut hair and deep blue eyes, he's got his arms over his chest and a rather nasty frown covering his face. He's staring me down and I am halfway between saying that's his 'intimidation' face or the way his face looks all the time. Man doesn't look like the smiley type. "Parents think you were a boy or something and sign the certificate too early?"

I laugh half-heartedly because all of the people I knew had asked that question and at one point, so did I. "Nope, my mom just thought I looked like a Robert."

He's obviously not pleased with the answer, his face unchanging, scoffs. He turns to the Nazi with a equally sour look. "Find the teleporter and get it fixed so we can get her home and get the hell outta here, okay Doc?"

The Nazi rolls his eyes and waves the other off with, "Fine, Dempshey, vhatever you say." With that, the man turns and heads back to the desk me and Tabitha pulled him away from and goes back to whatever he was doing before. Same goes for the blonde, Dempshey or whatever. He stomps off in a the same direction that the green eyed man had headed, off to do his own things I assume. The only two that stay are Tabitha and the other man that looked like he rolled out of a garbage can this morning. He's drinking now that I look at him. The bottle pressed to his lips, eyes closed because the shit he's drinking has got to sting going down, and happily off in his own world.

Tabitha sighs heavily, shoulders slumping as the air exits her. She walks past me, waving me to follow and, after one more look to the drunk man, I do.

"Look, point me to an exit and I'll leave," I say, trying not to sound too smart.

"Yeah, I'll be rooting for you," Tabitha says with a snort.

"Why is that, exactly?" I asks, my patience wearing thin already. Normally, I wasn't this testy but today hadn't exactly been my cup of tea. First, I get dragged out of bed to go to the Pentagon because some girl goes missing. Then, I get sucked into this place and attacked. Then interrogated.

"Because, if you go to the top floor they'll get you. If you get passed them, and that's a big _if_, you'll be home free until you get outside. They'll swarm you in seconds and you'll be dead in minutes," Tabitha says, not missing a step as she literally waltzes down the set of stairs we had originally went up.

"What? Who's they?"

"The zombies," Tabitha says, not even looking at me. "What do you think I was talking about?"

"Since when did I walk into a bad Romero flick? Zombies don't exist," I put out, not at all convinced.

She turns then, stopping dead, and making me nearly trip. I wasn't exactly good at stopping on a dime. She looks angry, her mouth pressed tight together. She then holds up her hand, the one with the missing fingers. "So this just happened on my way to work right?" She asks, her voice tight. She then points to her face. "And this happened on my _bike_."

I don't know what to say and stay quiet as she then points to her neck and a gruesome scar is revealed. "And my _cat_ did that."

Apparently my silence helps her calm down because she says nothing more and sighs, scratching said scar on her neck. "Look, that thing I killed back there wasn't human. It was going to attack you, rip you limb from limb, and then eat you because it can. It wouldn't have felt bad about it. It wouldn't have cared. Hell, it probably doesn't even know what it's doing. That thing is what I'm talking about. There is a ton of them. In there, upstairs, outside, possibly all over the world."

With each word I felt my heart sink a little lower into my stomach. My brain kept saying this wasn't possible, it wasn't real, and that there was no way that there could ever be such a thing as zombies. But the way Tabitha talked about it, the way she moved and the way her body tensed up every time she heard a noise told me so much more. She wasn't lying. She wasn't playing some sick joke on me. This was real.

"So, just...trust me, okay? You don't wanna leave. Not yet."

With that she turned and ducked behind a console. It was unplugged, unblinking like the others place strategically around the room, and obviously placed there to hide what was behind it. Once what Tabitha had said sunk in I too walked behind it to be greeted by a makeshift bed made of chair cushions, somewhat clean towels and lab coats surrounded by nearly burnt out candles and towers of old books. Tabitha laid across the side of the bed closets to the console and stretched, groaning as she did.

She doesn't even look at me when she says, "Pop a squat. Stay a while."

So I do. I maneuver myself onto the small bed and sit cross legged against the wall. It's silent for a little. All I can hear is the whirring of computers and the quiet cussing coming from the men above us.

"The Nazi is Richtofen. It's not Dempshey, it's Tank _Dempsey. _And the other one is Nikolai. Takeo was the one sleeping by the stairs."

"How did you know I was gonna ask that?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Because it would have been nice for someone to tell me that when I first showed up here."

"Well, thanks," I say, unsure how to proceed.

Tabitha once again sighs, this time ending it with a yawn. "You might want to try and sleep. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day for you."

I nod, somehow already knowing that, and lay down on the bed next to Tabitha. It's odd, laying next to someone I just met, but not uncomfortable. Tabitha was nice, if a little rough around the edges, but seemed to have her heart and head in the right place. I had a feeling she'd take care of me until I got to the point I'd take care of myself. But, I wouldn't have to right? I wouldn't be here long. That one guy said they'd get me back home soon.

But, I had a feeling that wasn't going to happen. At least, not like planned. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on anything but the noise that surrounded me and somewhere, off in the distance, I could hear someone humming a tune. It was slow, broken, and sad. I fell asleep to the sound of it and heard it all through my dreams.

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**Review if you like. They're appreciated. Thanks for reading. **


	4. Chapter 3

**To lazy to write generic disclaimer. You know I don't own this.**

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Translations:

**-00-**

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_Tabitha's POV_

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I woke with a start, sitting straight up, chest heaving and sweaty. My heart was beating hard against my ribs like I had been running around for hours. What had I dreamt that managed to scare me awake? What had disturbed me so much? After all I had seen and done what could possibly be more terrifying? I gasp, grabbing my left hand in my right. I grit my teeth, inhaling hard through my nose. Phantom pains. Richtofen said I would have those. Said they were normal.

Once they subside I look down at my hand. The glove I have on it was taken from a zombie so it's tattered and scuffed. The pointer finger and the middle finger are still attached but I had no use for the other so I simply ripped them off. It was odd, looking down and only having three fingers on one hand. Sometimes I felt them, or I thought I did, and sometimes when I was tired enough I could almost imagine feeling through them again. Running through my hair, over my clothes, or gripping the cold metal or hard wood that came with my weapons. It was almost like they were there again.

I lay back onto the bed, sighing. I didn't want to get up today.

But they weren't and beyond the pains I felt sometimes I honestly forgot they were gone most of the time. Funny how that works.

I move, running my hands over my makeshift mattress. I did this a lot, feelings things that is. I did it to keep myself solid, down to earth, from going nuts. I figured that as long as I woke up and could actually feel the bed lumpy and warm beneath me that life was good. My hand bumps against something. My heart instantly stills in my chest while my left hand wraps around the knife hid next to my bed. Before I move, before I planned to attack whatever was next to me, whatever it is groans. It's low, sleep induced, and almost childish.

It was human.

My left hand uncurls from the knife and my right moves away from the body. I find myself feeling extremely awkward all of a sudden and sit up once more, planning this time to get out of bed. My stirring doesn't wake her which makes me grateful. At least that way I wouldn't have to deal with her until later.

I step out of my little secluded area - supplied by the wonderful services of over-protective Tank and my newfound lover Richtofen - and hop up the stairs two at a time. Takeo's already awake, seeing as he had early morning watch, and gives me a silent greeting with a nod of his head. Nikolai and Tank are probably still asleep and I had learnt early on that waking them from sound sleep was like waking bears from hibernation by prodding them with a stick. They were never happy and there _would_ be Hell to pay.

I walk silently over to Richtofen's work area. At one point it had been one desk covered with a small amount of notes and scribbles and the occasional bottle of unrecognizable liquid. Now that we had been here a few weeks it had taken up two whole entire desks, part of the wall and most likely every filing cabinet that had once occupied various places about the room. It was normal for him to get...carried away with his research. He was very scatterbrained. As of recently it had taken a sudden turn and gotten worse. Seeing as I never really had a starting point for what would be considered normal for him I could very well be wrong.

Right now, all was quiet, even Richtofen. He was sitting in his chair, hunched over his desk, arms supporting his head as his body rose and gently fell with the sounds of deep sleep. Seeing him like this was an oddity, especially since he barely slept, and somehow seeing him relaxed and comfortable made my heart swell. He was always on edge, always looking for answers, trying to get us to the next place before we got overrun or ran out of ammunition and whenever he got the chance to just sit and take a breather made me happy.

My focus changed to the paper on the desks, scanning quickly over his garbled chicken scratch in an attempt to get the _slightest_ idea of what he was doing. Suddenly my eyes landed on some writing, in big and in red ink, that said "-turn on the Power."

That was odd. We had never turn the power on before. In fact, the power had been on when I had landed in the facility and when we had traveled to the theater.

Richtofen stirred in his sleep. I moved back, giving him room. I didn't want to disturb him somehow.

I wasn't there much longer though. Soon, I was heading back down the stairs to my little secluded area. I tiptoed around Robert and grabbed my backpack. I opened it and pulled out a piece of tattered paper. It was a map, one made of different scrapes of paper and drawn on when I managed to find a working pen. I had been exploring since we go here and marked down every room I had explored in the downstairs but a lot was still needed. I hadn't managed to get in every room because, frankly, no one would come with me and no one was really _supposed_ to be wandering around like I did.

I looked over my map, biting my lip, and focused on a blank spot on my map. I hadn't go into that general area because of the uncertainty that came with it and going in alone was just stupid.

That's when it hit me and I looked to Robert's sleeping form. I wasn't alone anymore.

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_Robert's POV_

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"You've got to be kidding me?" I let out in disbelief as Tabitha led me to the elevator. I followed because somewhere deep down inside of me I knew I had to stop her or at least go with her because God knew this was a dumb idea.

"No, I'm not kidding you," Tabitha says, hitting the button to call the elevator. "Now, you can either come with me and help me or stay here and wait even longer to get home."

I glared at her. "And how exactly do I know that this is going to get me home?" I ask, unconvinced.

Tabitha sighs just as the doors to the elevator open. She looks at me with a 'I'm tired of explaining' look that only someone with her amount of scars and stress could pull off. I gave her props, she was very well capable of being her own sort of intimidating. "Because, without power the teleporter won't work. Sure, you got in but now, without a proper power source we can't get out," she pauses and points to the paper in her hand before continuing with, "and if we can find the emergency backup generators for this place we can redirect the power to the teleporter and get you home. Following so far?"

I nod, putting my hands into my pockets. My left wrist bumps against the pistol Tabitha had given to me the other day, it's presence somewhat surprising me. I had to get used to carry a gun around. "Yes, but how do you know this place even has backup generators?"

Tabitha rolls her eyes. "It's the Pentagon. Why the fuck wouldn't it?"

She had a point. I purse my lips in thought. Getting home did sound nice. This place was a whole new level of crazy that I wasn't exactly thrilled to handle. If anything, I wanted a shower and to forget this ever happened.

"Fine, but I want to leave like a note or something. Just in case," I say finally, not moving toward the elevator.

Tabitha gave me a look of exasperation and finally gave in. She tore off a little piece of her map and, once she found a pen in her backpack, drew an arrow on it. She then tiptoed to where Richtofen was sleeping like a baby and swiped the one roll of surgical tape. Tabitha then pasted the arrow up where everyone could see next to the elevator. It wasn't exactly what I was looking for but I was guessing it was the best I was going to get. I stepped into the waiting elevator and Tabitha followed, hitting the button to the bottom floor on her way in.

The doors then closed and we both began to descend into the madness that waited for us below.

-00-

It took us a whole fifteen minutes to get to where Tabitha thought the power room was. Now, don't call me pessimistic or anything, but knowing where something is and thinking you knew where it is are two _very _different things. Don't get me wrong, normally I'm all for spur-of-the-moment trips and going on uncharted drives but those don't include flesh eating zombies and guns.

Tabitha stood before me looking over her map, triple checking it seemed, while I stood guard. By 'stood guard' I mean looking around dumbly waiting for something to move or groan or stumble by.

"Okay," she whispers, looking over her shoulder as she folds the map. "This is it."

"You're sure?" I question, just to be sure. Hell, I didn't even like this idea.

She nods, saying no more because she's already pulled the rag that hangs from her jeans out and wrapped it around her elbow, cocking it back before slamming it against the already shattered glass. It gives, allowing a small hole. She quickly looks over her shoulder before sticking her hand through the window and pulls the doorknob from the other side. The door clicks open and she pushes it open with her body, slipping inside. I follow, of course, unsure of what else to do.

Inside, there are wires and consoles and several red blinking lights. I close the door behind us and once inside, we both stand up to our full height. I just now noticed that I'm taller than Tabitha by at least a foot. I knew I was all but she couldn't be _that_ short.

"Okay, what now?" I ask, looking over to her.

She looks around, her eyes switching to all the blinking lights and then the switch on the wall next to us. "No idea," Tabitha says, sounding almost breathless.

"You mean you have no idea what to do?" I ask, anger bubbling in my stomach. "Seriously?"

"Look, it can't be that hard," she says, shrugging. "We can figure it out."

I brought my hand up to pinch the bridge of my nose. I exhaled heavily and nodded, closing my eyes. "Yes, alright," I let out, open my eyes to once again look around the small room. I looked to the lever. "Let's start with this."

I reach over and take a firm grip of the lever and flip it. Instantly, all the lights turn green and suddenly, the generator behind us kicks on and the lights above us turned on. The suddenly change in lighting made us both flinch, instantly shielding our eyes. But after a moment we both look around. Tabitha has a small smile on her face.

I could see how something like this could make things better. To me, it was a way home, a way back to my normal life but for Tabitha and the group of hard-ass military men back there it was a way of life, something to look forward to, something that meant moving on and getting someplace else. Someplace safe.

"Told you it wouldn't be hard," Tabitha teases half-heartedly. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"Okay," I let out, "you were right. Now let's get back before the zombies come out to play."

Tabitha nods knowingly, somehow still smiling, and turns toward the door. I do too but suddenly everything goes out. The lights turn off, all the little green lights turn red, and the generator falls silent. Tabitha gasps, suddenly crouching, gun out and I find myself looking to the switch. It's still down, still _on, _and now everything was out again. So much for this being 'not that hard'.

"Do you think it short-circuited?" I ask, looking to Tabitha. She's looking around, confused, but also something else. What I saw in her eyes was fear, pure fear.

"No, it's something else," Tabitha lets out, looking to me. Just as she said that the alarms started going off, red emergency lights were suddenly flashing. The one on the inside of the room was letting out it's annoying call as the red lights raced over the walls and the floor and us.

A voice suddenly rings over the speakers; _"__Alert, Containment Failure. System will remain on alert status." _

"What does that mean?" I ask, now looking out the windows. For some reason I'm looking for the zombies. With all the noise I expect them to be moving, milling around looking for us, trying to sniff us out in order to get a hold of us but I see nothing. Worst of all, I hear nothing. There was always noise here. Consoles running, things beeping, the zombies moaning in far off corridors but this time around there was nothing but silence and darkness and the occasional flash of red of the alarm lights.

"What did we-"

I'm suddenly on the ground with Tabitha's one hand over my mouth. I'm genuinely pissed that she pulled me onto the ground, effectively hurting my hip, but I quickly push it aside as I follow her gaze. Something was moving. With every red flash it moved past the windows. But that was impossible. Nothing could move that fast. It was literally zipping past us, passing the windows at a abnormal running pace, every now and then pausing to look around and then continue on.

We sat there, silent, watching this thing run past us and back again for what seemed like forever. Slowly Tabitha's hand removed itself from my face allowing me to sit up. I instantly reached to my pants and grabbed the gun Tabitha had lent me. It was a pistol and I barely knew how it worked but it made me feel safe.

"How do we get out of here?" I ask, looking to Tabitha.

She shook her head, her eyes still trained on the windows that surrounded us. "No idea," Tabitha whispers. It was hard to hear her over the sirens but at least she answered. I look over the windows once more. The figure was no longer running around. Where had it gone?

"Run," Tabitha whispers.

I look to her, about to ask her why when the door behind her burst open. Tabitha shoves me to the opposite side of the room, knocking the wind from me. She instantly turns and shoots, getting at least two shots off before she turns to me once more. "Run Robert! Now!" Tabitha screams before whatever had busted open the door grabs her by the ankle and pulls her out of the door and into the dark. She doesn't scream. There is no noise.

And I'm alone.

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**Here it is fellas. Review please. Next chapter will be out soon. Till next time. **


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